


the other path

by SailorChibi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Baby Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Caregiver Bucky Barnes, Civil War Team Iron Man, Cuddling, Diapers, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hugging, Infantilism, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Self-Esteem Issues, Tony Stark Has Trust Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, alternate universe - littles are known, bucky barnes has a sense of responsibility, bucky barnes just wants to stop running, daddy bucky barnes, happy ending for bucky and tony, little Tony Stark, more tags may be added, naps, non sexual age play, non sexual infantilism, not team Cap friendly, not wanda maximoff friendly, platonic cuddles, steve rogers is oblivious, steve rogers is obsessed with the past, thumb sucking, whelp my salt is back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-06-22 04:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19659598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: Rather than leave with Steve in Siberia, Bucky opts to stay behind and face the consequences of his actions. When he finds out Tony Stark is a Little, he becomes even more convinced that he made the right decision... no matter how much Steve believes otherwise.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this one is a commission for an anon who wanted fluffy age play, and was interested in a sprinkling of salt.

Steve grabbed Bucky around the chest, lifting him to his feet. Bucky stumbled, legs feeling weak beneath him, but managed to keep from falling back to the floor. The cavern was quiet except for the sound of ragged breathing. Over Steve’s shoulder, Bucky looked at Stark. The pain and betrayal in Stark’s face felt like it was burned into his brain, but he couldn’t even tell whether the pain Stark was feeling was mental, emotional or physical.

Probably, if Bucky were being honest, a mixture of all three.

“Let’s go, Buck,” Steve said quietly, but firmly. There was a glitter of triumph in his eyes that made Bucky feel kind of sick.

“No,” Bucky said, and he honestly wasn’t even aware that he was going to say it – some days it seemed like Hydra had beaten the ability to think for himself right out of him. But it when came to Steve Rogers, Bucky was learning that putting your foot down was the only one to get things done.

Steve looked at him like he was crazy. “Bucky, come on. T’Challa is waiting for us. We have to get out of here before Tony’s reinforcements show up. We need to go into hiding until this whole things blows over.”

Stark scoffed at that, a thick, liquidy sound that made a chill run down Bucky’s spine. What he’d said to Stark wasn’t exactly true: he didn’t remember all of the people that the Winter Soldier had killed. His memories were still a muddled mess at best, often disjointed and faint. But he remembered what people sound like before they died. He knew what a person sounded like when they were drowning in their own blood. He remembered what the strength of a supersoldier’s hands could do to a normal person, even if that person was encased in armor.

“I said no. I’m not leaving with you,” Bucky said. “I’m staying here.”

“Bucky – ”

“Go,” Bucky said, repeating the word that Steve had been yelling at him not fifteen minutes ago. 

“Not without you,” Steve said, setting his jaw.

“Then stay,” Bucky said, because he knew that Steve wouldn’t. He wasn’t wholly sure what had happened over the past few days. But he wanted to find out. He was done with operating in the shadows. He was done with hurting people and then running away before he had to face the consequences. 

Steve sighed, looking back at Stark. It looked like Stark had passed out; his eyes were shut and his color didn’t look very good. For the first time, Bucky became aware of just how cold it was in the room. He’d gone into cyro so often that the cold barely impacted him anymore, but a normal human right after a very intense battle? If they left Stark here, there was a good chance he would freeze to death.

Bucky was _done_ with having the lives of innocent people on his conscience.

“Is this because he’s a Little?” Steve asked finally.

“… What?” Bucky said, after a beat of horrified silence.

“I remember that sometimes your instincts used to fuck you up at the worst times. I mean, I get that he’s a Little but it’s – it’s _Tony_ , Buck, five minutes ago he was trying to kill you. Just ignore it. He’s – shit!” Steve yelped and swore as Bucky punched him in the jaw. Regrettably, Bucky’s metal arm was still laying on the floor on the opposite side of the room. His human arm wouldn’t do nearly as much damage. But Steve was still wincing and rubbing his jaw, so Bucky would take what he could get.

“Must be my instincts,” Bucky snarled, shaking his hand out. “Get the hell out of here, Steve.”

“Bucky, what’s wrong with you?” Steve held his jaw, looking hurt. 

Part of Bucky kind of wanted to punch him again, but he reined in the urge. "You didn't tell me Stark was a Little," he said, trying not to yell. He cast another look at Stark. It seemed like there was a lot of information that Steve was keeping close to the vest, and Bucky wasn't really sure what to do about that right now.

"I guess it didn't come up," Steve said, shrugging. But his eyes slid away as he said it, which meant he was lying. Bucky clenched his hand into another fist. That was bullshit and they both knew it; Steve was a baseline, not a Caregiver. He'd never really understood the nuances behind Bucky's Caregiver status, only knowing enough to know that being motherhenned used to drive Steve completely crazy and that Bucky had only done it because he didn't have a Little of his own. Steve, small and sickly, had been enough to somewhat soothe Bucky's instincts, and he'd put up with it to help Bucky out because Bucky needed it.

In that moment, there was no doubt in Bucky's mind that Steve had kept Stark's status a secret from him deliberately. Because Bucky never would've fought against Stark if he'd known. It went against everything that Bucky _was_. Littles were meant to be cared for and protected. They were precious. And maybe things were different now, but Bucky had grown up in a time when Littles were rare, so not every Caregiver had one. He didn't remember much, but he knew that he'd always wanted a Little of his own to coddle and love.

"Steve," he growled. "Get out of here _right now_."

"I'm not going to leave you here and let you take the fall for something that wasn't your fault!" Steve snapped. They both tensed at the sound of a jet outside. 

"Let me deal with it," Bucky said. He didn't know what would happen when he got back to the U.S. It was possible he'd end up in jail. But there was no way he was leaving Stark here alone. They didn't even know if Stark had reinforcements coming, and he was hurt. Hot guilt, mingled with fresh horror, curled in the pit of Bucky's stomach as he looked over at Stark again. He'd hit a Little. He'd _attacked_ a Little. 

"Bucky -" Steve said, looking conflicted. 

"Go. Go, damn you, Steve!" Bucky yelled, losing his temper. "Let me handle this the way I want to handle it for once in your goddamn life!"

And in spite of all that, Steve still wasn't moving. He planted his feet squarely and said firmly, "I'm not leaving you. You're coming with me."

Bucky might have lost his temper. Just a little. He didn't mean to punch Steve again, but it happened anyway. Steve still wasn't expecting it, and this time the force behind the punch threw him backwards. His back hit the wall first and then his head snapped back and hit the wall too. His face went slack and he slid to the floor. Bucky stared at him for a moment, speechless, and then surged forward. He grabbed Steve, hefted the dead weight up as best he could, and carried Steve outside to find that T'Challa was outside waiting for them.

"Take him," Bucky growled, slinging Steve down. 

"My debt is to you, not him," T'Challa said, making no move to attend to Steve.

"Consider it paying the debt if need be," Bucky said. "Just... just get him _out_ of here." He turned to go back inside.

"What about you?" T'Challa asked.

"I don't care about me," Bucky said. He was pretty sure that T'Challa would do he asked, sure enough that he didn't stick around to watch. He immediately went back inside and this time, approached Stark.

It was impossible to tell how much damage had been done since Stark was still wearing the armor, but just seeing Stark's face was enough to make every protective instinct Bucky possessed rush to the surface. Stark's face was as pale as the snow outside except for the place where dark bruising stood out. His right cheek in particular was starting to swell. Maybe it was broken. Maybe a lot of Stark's bones were broken. Sickened, Bucky slid to his knees. He didn't even know how to go about getting help, even though Stark looked like he desperately needed it.

He fumbled in his pocket for the burner phone that Wilson had given him several days ago, but hesitated when he had it in hand. Who was he supposed to call? It wasn't like he had the phone number of any of Stark's friends. He didn't know any phone numbers. Wilson had given him a scrap of paper with Steve's number written on it, but that sure as hell wasn't going to help. He sighed and glanced at Stark. If Stark were conscious, he'd probably know some numbers by heart - but Stark would also probably freak out at seeing Bucky here.

There was only one thing to be done, then. He dug out the scrap of paper with Steve’s number on it and called it. He was infinitely relieved when T’Challa answered instead – there was no way Steve would’ve been helpful at this point. The king listened to Bucky’s request and then solemnly promised to alert Stark’s friends to their location as quickly as possible.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Bucky jumped and dropped the burner phone. It shattered. He watched the pieces go spinning in every direction before slowly turning to Stark. Those deep brown eyes watched Bucky warily, with a silent accusation that Bucky couldn’t put into words. There was no fear, though. That was something. After everything else, Bucky wasn’t sure he could’ve handled a Little looking at him in fright.

“I couldn’t leave,” Bucky said honestly, sinking to his knees. “I couldn’t – I’ve just – I’ve fucked up so bad. And since leaving Hydra, I don’t think I’ve done a single thing right.” He forced a laugh, and wondered if it sounded as fake to Stark as it did to hs own ears.

“So you’re turning yourself in?” Stark demanded. “Just like that? After all the shit Rogers has pulled?” 

“I didn’t before because Steve had me convinced that no one would give me a fair trial,” Bucky admitted. He paused, then shook his head. “But hell – I don’t deserve that. Anyone looking at my past for more than five minutes would know that. I know you don’t want to hear it, but – but I’m sorry. I’m _so_ sorry, Stark, if I could go back in time and kill myself before Hydra got their hands on me I would –”

“Shut up. Just… shut up,” Stark said. The anger had drained from his voice. He suddenly sounded exhausted. 

Bucky obeyed, even though he didn’t want to. At this point, he would do just about anything that Stark asked of him. Stark glared at him for a while longer, but eventually he passed out again. Bucky shifted uncomfortably; he wanted to check on Stark and make sure he was okay, but he didn’t even know how to do that. He didn’t have the first clue how to open up the armor, or even if he should. What if Stark was badly hurt and the armor was the only thing holding him together?

It seemed to take forever before help arrived, though it was probably only a couple of hours at most. Stark was still out, so Bucky heard them first, the unmistakable sound of jets landing in the distance. He swallowed hard, hoping that he hadn’t made the wrong decision, and shuffled away from Stark to lay his body flat on the ground. He stretched his arm out and waited.

Then people burst into the room. For several minutes it was a cacophony of shouting and noise and movement, and had to force himself to not react. Hands hauled Bucky to his feet and slapped a cuff on him. He was yanked out of the cavern. He caught a glimpse of still more people surrounding Stark, but he couldn’t see what they were doing and anyway it was none of his business. He let himself be half-carried out into the cold snow and marched down the hill towards the jets that were below.


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky was fully expecting to be carted off to jail immediately, and that was if he was lucky. He wouldn't have blamed anyone for trussing him up and tossing him into a deep, dark hole in the ground.It was, in his opinion, what he deserved, so he wouldn't have fought them for deciding that was to be his fate. But that wasn't what happened.

Over the next six weeks, Bucky spoke to more people than he had in seventy plus years. Doctors, lawyers, policemen, agents, therapists - they marched in and out of Bucky's room on a regular basis. He underwent numerous medical and physological tests. His skin crawled during some of the medical tests, because they required him to be placed in big machines that were eerily reminiscent of Hydra's work. But he was never strapped down, and there was always someone there explaining every possible step to him in a very calm, soothing voice.

He didn't know what was going to happen. People were talking, but no one was actually telling him anything. That was, until the morning the door opened and a black man wearing an eyepatch strode into Bucky's room. Bucky sat up from where he was laying on his bed. His room was actually nice, surprisingly. It had a door that locked on the outside and the entire left side was a tinted window, but there was a separate bathroom, a bed, a television, and several shades loaded with books of every genre. He even had a tablet, though some of it had been locked down and he suspected there was someone monitoring his online activity.

"Sergeant Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier in the flesh," the man said, linking his arms behind his back. "You've put down a lot of my agents."

Bucky stood slowly, the hair on the back of his neck rising. This man was dangerous. He was armed, for one thing, with a gun visible on his right hip, but Bucky very much doubted that was all weaponry the man had on him. He was also tall and broadly built, probably more than capable of fighting. Bucky still didn't have his metal arm back, and at this point he didn't think he'd get it back - so if they got into a fight, he was already at a disadvantage. Plus, the easy way that he stood suggested that he wasn't afraid of being in the same room as the Winter Soldier. He, at least, believed in his own capabilities.

"Do I know you?" Bucky asked. He didn't remember seeing the man before, but that didn't mean very much. His memories were fractured at best. He didnt even remember what his own mother and little sister looked like. One of the therapists had shown him a picture, and it had been like looking at strangers.

"My name is Nick Fury." The man said it like that was supposed to mean something, but it didn't.

"Okay," Bucky said slowly. "Are you a doctor? Another lawyer?"

Fury snorted. "I'm the Director of SHIELD," he said. "That probably still doesn't mean as much to you as it should."

"Probably not," Bucky agreed. He had been learning more about the Avengers during his down time. Most of his internet searches were either about the Avengers as a whole or the individual members. Some of them had been easy to learn about, like Tony. Others, like Natasha and Clint, were mere ghosts in the wind until they joined the Avengers and stepped into the media spotlight. SHIELD had come up several times during Bucky's searches, though he was positive that he had yet to learn the full story.

"You're not what we expected, Barnes," Fury went on. "All those tales of the Winter Solider... not to mention the damage you've done since leaving Hydra. I was expecting an assassin. A trained killer. A weapon." Fury narrowed his eye. "But you're not all that, are you?"

"I've killed people, make no mistake. But I like to think that's not all I am," Bucky said quietly. Honesty couldn't hurt at this point. It was a philosophy he'd adopted since day one. He'd been honest with anyone who asked him questions, speaking plainly about what he remembered and what he didn't, why he'd run after escaping Hydra, what had happened since meeting up with Steve, and why he'd ultimately decided to turn himself in instead of remaining a fugitive. He wasn't sure that people believed him, mostly because of the skeptical looks he got every time he had to admit he didn't remember something, but he was trying.

"If it was, you wouldn't be here," Fury said crisply.

Bucky looked up at him. "Why are _you_ here?"

"I was asked to come, on behalf of an associate of mine. There are a lot of people crying for your blood, Barnes. But there's also a lot of people who don't want to turn you into a scapegoat for what Hydra did. Right now, no one is sure what's going to happen you. That bother you?" 

"No," Bucky said simply. "With all due respect, Mr. Fury, my fate hasn't been mine for the past seventy-five years. I don't see why things would change now."

Finally, Fury cracked a small smile. "You might be the only one who sees it that way. I'm here to escort you to your new temporary home."

"What?" Bucky said, startled.

"You're going to be under house arrest. You'll have twice daily, mandatory meetings with your therapists, biweekly meetings with doctors, and a monthly meeting with your lawyer. Plus you might be called upon to give further statements at any point. If you miss any of these meetings, your ass will be back here faster than you can blink. This is unprecedented, Barnes, so don't fuck it up. The only reason you're getting this chance is because you have a powerful friend who has been advocating on your behalf. I'd make sure you do what you can not to piss him off," said Fury.

"Uh... okay?" Bucky couldn't think of who that powerful friend might be. T'Challa, maybe? He'd told the king that T'Challa's debt was fulfilled, but maybe T'Challa hadn't accepted that. But how much sway could the king of Wakanda really have in the U.S.?

"Pack what you want," Fury said. From beneath his coat, he removed a small backpack and threw it at Bucky. "New clothing and other essentials are waiting for you, so don't bother with those."

Bucky caught the backpack and just stood there for a moment, utterly baffled by this unexpected turn of events, until Fury made an impatient motion. Only then did he start moving around the room, picking up the tablet and a small stack of books that he'd been working his way through. He wasn't actually sure it was okay to take these things, but Fury didn't stop him. So Bucky slid them into the backpack and slung it over his shoulder, gripping the strap to hold it in place. Without his other arm, it wasn't like he could comfortably wear the backpack traditionally.

"Come on," Fury said, jerking his thumb towards the door, and Bucky fell into step beside him. He'd been down this hallway numerous times, at first heavily restrained and then, as they realized he genuinely was not a threat, just in cuffs. He hadn't thought he would be walking freely down it this soon. 

He followed Fury down another couple of hallways, down five flights of stairs, and outside. There, Bucky paused for a moment and just looked around at New York. They had sedated him while transporting him to this facility in the first place, so he hadn't gotten the chance to see the city. And he didn't exactly count the times he'd been hear carrying out duties for Hydra - that had been the Winter Soldier seeing the city, not Bucky. It had been years, and everything was different, but the _feel_ of New York was the same. He could feel the familiar tingle under his skin.

"Barnes," Fury said, and Bucky snapped to attention. A car had pulled up the curb. Fury was standing there alongside a woman with dark hair pulled back into a bun and a severe smile.

Bucky got into the car, pleased when they let him have a window seat, and spent the whole ride staring out the window in awe. Everything was so bright and colorful and alive. People were everywhere, naturally. When they stopped at a red light, there was a little girl standing there waiting to cross the road with her room. She was holding a silver balloon in her right hand and an ice cream cone in her left. There was such a big smile on her face that Bucky couldn't help smiling too, even though she couldn't see him. She just looked like she was happy to be alive.

He could relate.

They pulled up in front of a familiar tower, and Bucky's smile slid straight off his face to be replaced by a look of deep confusion. He might never have seen this building in person, but it had come up frequently in his searches. He remained quiet as the car paused and what looked like security approached the car. They spoke to the driver, then the guy stepped back and waved them through. Bucky's confusion mounted as they drove down a ramp beneath Stark Tower, home of Stark Industries and Tony Stark - and, once, the Avengers. What were they doing here? 

He voiced the question as the car came to a stop, but no one answered him. Bucky set his jaw in annoyance, recognizing the game they were playing, and remained quiet as first Fury, then Bucky, then the woman agent climbed out of the car. They escorted him over to an elevator. But when Bucky walked in and turned around, he realized that neither of them had joined him. He opened his mouth to ask, but the elevator doors swept shut before he could speak. The elevator started to move. Bucky backed himself into a corner, his pulse quickening.

Everything Steve had said about Stark was a lie, Bucky knew that. It had become embarrassingly apparent with even a couple of internet searches that Stark wasn't cruel or thoughtless or the government's sucker or - or _any_ of the various names that the Avengers had called him. But in that moment, a small seed of doubt began to grow as he started to seriously wonder why he was here. After all, Bucky had killed Stark's parents and Stark had had to _see_ it happen. Stark would be perfectly within his rights to want some revenge. Most people wouldn't blame him. No jury would convict him.

The elevator doors swung open and Bucky froze, expecting to see a gun or maybe even another repulsor being pointed in his face. Instead, he saw Stark, Pepper Potts and James Rhodes. All three of them were staring him down in silence. Rhodes was in full military dress and sitting in a wheelchair. Potts was wearing a tailored white suit paired with a blue shirt, whereas Stark was in a bespoke black suit with a red shirt. Bucky immediately felt like he was dressed like a slovenly bum next to them. 

"Fury didn't say anything to you, did he?" Stark asked finally.

"Uh... not really?" Bucky said hesitantly. They hadn't killed him yet. That had to be a good sign, right?

"Figures," Stark said under his breath. "What did he say?"

"Just that... um, I was being given house arrest because I had a powerful friend. I thought that's where I was being taken, but then I ended up here," Bucky said.

Rhodes' scowl deepened. " _Tony_ is your powerful friend."

Bucky's jaw dropped. "What?!"

"That was my reaction," Rhodes muttered.

Stark elbowed him lightly and said, "It's a long story. Basically, I really hated you when I first got back to New York. I still might hate you even now, a little bit. It's a work in progress." He folded his arms. "But you turned yourself in. You called for help in Siberia. And you've been cooperating so far. So you can't be all bad."

"I beg to differ," Rhodes said, staring at Bucky with a hard look in his eye. There was no doubt in Bucky's mind that Rhodes would happily kill him.

"So... you've been helping me?" Bucky said, utterly baffled.

Stark nodded. "Yes. Whether or not my help continues depends."

"On?" Bucky asked.

"You'll see," Stark said. He didn't smile, but he didn't scowl either. "Now come out of there. We're not going to kill you."

"Well," Rhodes said.

"Rhodey," Potts said. Like Stark, she wasn't smiling. But there might have been something slightly softer about her face than when the doors had first opened. "Come on, Mr. Barnes. I will show you to your room."


	3. Chapter 3

Pepper – “I don’t care what you say; you’re not to call me Ms. Potts” – had told him that FRIDAY would let him know if there was somewhere Bucky wasn’t supposed to go. And it turned out that she wasn’t lying. Within the span of a week, Bucky had officially fallen in love. FRIDAY was the most _amazing_ thing he’d ever seen. She seemed to know everything and she readily answered everything Bucky asked her. Or rather, almost everything.

“Boss didn’t tell me that he wanted to avoid seeing you,” FRIDAY said doubtfully. It was about a week after Bucky had come to stay at the tower. He’d quickly figured that out he had essentially swapped one prison for another, and that FRIDAY was monitoring him at all times to make sure he behaved. He assumed he was being watched too, though he could never find the cameras. 

But at least his floor in Stark Tower was considerably larger. He wasn’t confined to two small rooms. There was a large bathroom, three bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, an office space, and even a balcony. Bucky hadn’t stepped out onto the balcony yet, though he wanted to. No one had explicitly told him that he wasn’t allowed outside the tower, but he thought they probably figured it went without saying. People came to see him and that was fine. 

“Why would Stark want to see me?” Bucky countered reasonably. “Seriously, FRIDAY. I promise I’m not trying to figure out his schedule so I can attack him. I just want a cup of coffee and I don’t want to traumatize Stark.” His stomach clenched at the very idea.

“Fine,” FRIDAY said, in the tone of someone who didn’t think it was ‘fine’ at all. “Boss is in his workshop.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said, relieved. His kitchen had been stocked with the basics, but it had been seven days and he was running low on a few things. He hadn’t yet figured out how he was going to get more, but FRIDAY had told him there was a communal kitchen three floors above him.

He walked over to the elevator and startled a little when the doors automatically opened, before realizing that it had to be FRIDAY. He stepped inside and pressed him into the right corner, putting the corner solidly at his back. The elevator was smoother than any other he’d ever been inside; he barely felt its movement, and might not have known he had moved at all were it not for the fact that the doors opened to reveal a much larger space.

“Kitchen is straight ahead,” FRIDAY announced.

“Thanks,” Bucky said again, cautiously poking his head out and looking around. If he saw Rhodes, he was more than willing to live without coffee for the rest of his life. But there was no one around. He slowly left the elevator and moved forward, taking in what was obviously the living room. All of the furniture looked well-worn and comfortable. He spotted what looked like a kid’s sweater on one of the chairs, and wondered if maybe Pepper or Rhodes had kids.

The kitchen was twice the size of his own. Bucky stopped and stared, baffled at all the machines that lined the counter top. It was overwhelming. He stepped closer to the nearest one and leaned forward to stare at it. It didn’t look like a coffeemaker, but then again none of the appliances did. He poked experimentally at one of the buttons and nearly jumped out of his skin when someone spoke behind him.

“Do I want to know what you’re doing with Laura’s mixer?”

“W-what – I – shit,” Bucky stuttered, whirling around to see Stark standing right behind him. He immediately put his hand up, eyes darting towards the exit – the exit which Stark was blocking. His pulse quickened.

Stark blinked at him for a moment, then silently stepped out of the doorway and to the side. “I thought you were never going to come out. What prompted this?”

“I – what?” Bucky said weakly. “I just – I wanted a cup of coffee – I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” Stark looked baffled.

“I know I’m not supposed to leave my floor,” Bucky said.

“You’re not supposed to leave your floor? Who told you that?” Stark was looking more confused by the word.

“Well… no one. I just assumed,” Bucky said slowly. “I wasn’t allowed to leave my room at the other place.”

“For god’s sake,” Stark muttered. He rubbed his forehead and left a streak of grease behind. “Barnes, I didn’t bring you here to make you a prisoner. You can go where you want in the tower; the only places you can’t go are private and not open to everyone. Didn’t Pepper tell you that FRIDAY would let you know if you were trying to access a place you couldn’t get to?”

“Yes. But I didn’t want to assume,” Bucky said. He didn’t want to do anything that would get him kicked out. 

“Is that why you haven’t done anything at all?” Stark said. “You haven’t even ordered food for yourself?”

“Ordered food?” Bucky repeated blankly.

“FRIDAY!” Stark barked. “Didn’t you explain to Barnes that he can restock the food in his kitchen just by asking you?”

“He didn’t ask,” FRIDAY said. “All he asked was where he could find a cup of coffee, and the closest location was the communal kitchen.”

Stark put his hands on his hips. “So you essentially drove him out.”

“I did no such thing,” FRIDAY said as innocently as an A.I. could. 

“Um,” Bucky said. He was thoroughly confused. “I, um, don’t have any money. So…” He gestured helplessly with his one hand, then remembered and froze. 

“For _fuck’s_ sake,” Stark said heatedly. “You don’t have to put your hands up! Hand up. I’m not going to – fuck!” He stomped his foot. “This has turned into such a shitstorm. I hate it when Pepper’s right, damn it!”

“You swear a lot for a Little,” Bucky said before he could stop himself.

Stark stared at him. “Excuse me?”

Bucky swallowed and dropped his gaze. “Nothing. Sorry.” 

“Oh my god, save me,” Stark said. Bucky peeked up at him. Stark was staring at the ceiling and shaking his head.

“Uh, save you from what?” Bucky asked cautiously.

“From caregivers that can’t help themselves,” Stark snapped. He pointed to the table. “Sit. We’re going to talk.”

It seemed best to obey, so Bucky did. He watched curiously as Stark went over to a cabinet and opened it, revealing a coffeemaker that was very similar to the one upstairs in Bucky’s kitchen. Stark operated the machine deftly and had it puttering away within less than a minute. The tantalizing aroma of coffee began to fill the air. Stark took two mugs out of a different cupboard, filled them, and set one in front of Bucky.

“Milk or sugar?” he asked.

“I’m good,” Bucky said. He normally drank it with both, but it was too weird to have Stark get them for him. One cup of black coffee wouldn’t kill him.

Stark eyed him skeptically but sat, taking a long drink of coffee that emptied half his cup and had to have burned his tongue. All he did was sigh and say, “Look, obviously some things should have been communicated to you that weren’t. That is more than likely my fault, though I will admit that devious A.I.’s have a hand in it.”

“Okay,” Bucky said slowly.

“So, let’s start over. Hi. I’m Tony Stark.” Stark stuck a hand out.

Bucky stared at him, then at the offered hand, in shock for several seconds before realizing how rude he was being. He swiftly took Stark’s hand and gently shook it. “Bucky Barnes.”

“Do you prefer Bucky?” Stark asked.

“Sure,” Bucky said. 

“Then call me Tony.” Stark – Tony leaned back in his chair. “Like I said, I didn’t bring you here to be a prisoner or out of some misguided idea of revenge. You don’t have to pay me, and you don’t have to pay _for_ anything while you’re here. FRIDAY can help you order anything you want, and that includes food for your kitchen. My intention was not to have you starve. Frankly, you look like you already have.”

Bucky looked down at himself automatically. He hadn’t thought he looked too bad. There was a pair of scissors upstairs in his bathroom, which he’d used to trim his scraggly hair. It now fell nicely to his shoulders and was all one length. He’d found clothing in the closet. Some of it was too big, but it was all new and fit relatively well with some strategically used belts.

“Hydra fed me through I.V.’s most of the time, or through freeze dried food. And I didn’t like stealing after I escaped, but I didn’t have any money,” he said, feeling like he needed to explain. But maybe that was a mistake, because when he looked up it was to see Tony staring at him with two spots of color in his cheeks and blazing eyes. Bucky recoiled slightly; Tony’s expression instantly smoothed out.

“Right,” Tony said with an air of forced pleasantry. “Of course. Well, things are different here.”

“But I can’t take your money,” Bucky said. “If anything, I should be the one to –”

“Stop,” Tony commanded. “Please don’t. You apologized once, and I assume you meant it?”

Bucky nodded quickly, unable to keep from saying, “Yes, I –”

“Ah ah,” Tony said, holding up a hand. “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but I really don’t want to hear it. I’m not angry with you. Now that I’ve had some time to come to think, I recognize that you were being forced. I know you were a sniper, but I assume you don’t enjoy killing people.” He gave Bucky a hard look.

“Not particularly,” Bucky said meekly. “I do like watching Disney, though.”

Tony’s mouth opened and then closed. He just _looked_ at Bucky for a long time, and then he laughed. Bucky jumped in surprise, instinctively clutching his half-full coffee mug to his chest. Something changed in Tony Stark when he laughed: he looked softer around the edges, warmer. And, still chuckling, Tony got up and refilled his own mug, then held the pot out to Bucky. Tentatively Bucky nodded, and Tony filled his mug the rest of the way up.

“Disney,” he said, putting the pot back and taking a seat. “Really?”

Bucky nodded. “They’re calming,” he said quietly. 

“Calming,” Tony repeated. He swirled his coffee around in his cup and then sighed. “Listen. I think you’re going to come through this okay. When we – when _Cap_ took down SHIELD, and put all those files on the internet, there was some stuff about the Winter Solider. There were a lot of people behind what happened to you. There are a lot of people to blame.”

“People must want to blame me too,” Bucky said.

“I’m not going to lie to you. Some do. Some always will. But that… that doesn’t mean those people are right,” Tony said. He paused, as though thinking, before he added, “I have really good lawyers. I don’t think you’ll serve any jail time. Human Rights activists would have a _fit_ , and rightfully so. Most likely you’ll be court-ordered to continue attending your meetings with your therapist, but that’s about the extent of it.”

Bucky sat there in disbelief. That wasn’t what Steve had told him at all. “That doesn’t seem right. After what I did…”

“The legal system is not designed to punish innocent people, Bucky. There are people who will fight for you, and for your rights. Arguably, you’ve already been in a different sort of prison for over seventy years. One where all of your agency was stripped away and you were used as a puppet.” Tony cleared his throat. “Sending you to another kind of jail isn’t going to help anyone. Punishing the people who did this to you in the first place, on the other hand, and keeping them from doing it to anyone else, well. That’s a whole different story.”

“And what about…” Bucky swallowed. “What about what I did after I escaped Hydra?”

“My lawyers are handling that too. You were traumatized. PTSD. There might some reparations. Community service, maybe. It won’t be that bad. Cap, on the other hand… He has no such excuse.”

“Can we not talk about Steve?” Bucky asked hoarsely. This was already a lot to take in, and he didn’t want to think about Steve right now. Didn’t want to think about how, when or if Steve finally turned himself in, it was unlikely that people would be so kind.

Tony nodded, looking relieved. “Absolutely. So… um, one thing all of this hinges on is us being able to prove that you are no longer a danger.”

“My head,” he said, already knowing what Tony meant. So long as those code words lived in his head, that made Bucky a danger to everyone.

“Yeah. But I have a plan to fix that,” Tony said, and Bucky looked at him in astonishment.

“To fix me?” he said, only realizing after he’d said it that that was probably a weird thing to say. But no one had ever told Bucky that he could be fixed. During the rare moments of clarity in his time as the Winter Soldier, those words had _always_ dragged him back under. Three days ago, he’d turned on the television and heard characters speaking in Russian and it had sent him into an immediate panic attack.

“There’s a machine,” Tony began. “It’s, well, it’s called Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, or B.A.R.F. for short. Don’t make that face, I know I suck at names.” He waved his hand. “I think it can help you. And… there’s this guy. Charles Xavier? I don’t know if you’ve heard of him, but he’s a mutant. One of the best, actually. He was a consultant when I built this machine. Between the two of them, I think we can remove the words from your head.”

Bucky stared at him, speechless and stunned to his core.

“I really should’ve brought this up to you earlier, but… well… Things got in the way.” Tony sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He looked tired, Bucky noticed absently, like he wasn't sleeping well. Most Littles were shit at taking care of themselves. It’s why they had caregivers.

“That’s – you – I don’t –” Bucky exhaled raggedly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we haven’t done it yet,” Tony said, but he smiled. He had a cute, satisfied smile. “But we’ll make this work, and you – you, Bucky Barnes, are gonna be fine.”


	4. Chapter 4

The hair on the back of Bucky's neck rose as he leaned down to remove his cake from the oven, and he immediately knew that he was no longer alone. Because he was in the tower, he didn't panic the way that he wanted to. Instead, he straightened up and set his cake on top of the oven. It needed to cool for a few minutes before he removed it from the pan, or it would collapse. He shut off the oven, took off his oven mitts, and finally turned around to see who had joined him. His heart might have skipped a couple beats when he realized it was Rhodes.

"Barnes," Rhodes said. He wasn't in his wheelchair, instead standing with the help of what Bucky knew were steel bracers that Tony had personally built, which meant he was at the perfect angle to stare daggers at the cake Bucky had just set on the stove. Bucky wasn't sure why. Maybe Rhodes had something against carrot cake?

"Rhodes," Bucky said back, keeping his tone level. "What can I do for you?"

"You've been spending a lot of time with Tony," Rhodes said.

Bucky blinked at him, genuinely taken aback. That was the last thing he'd been expecting. "I have?"

"Yeah, you have," Rhodes said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I want to know what your intentions are."

"My what?" Bucky said, even more baffled now. 

"What are you planning on doing with Tony?" Rhodes demanded.

"Uh... nothing? I mean, I'd like to figure out some way to thank him, but I don't even know how to do that," Bucky said slowly. He wasn't really sure what was going on here. Rhodes had made it a point to avoid Bucky whenever they were both in the tower, and Bucky was okay with that. Pepper and Tony were both kind to him, far kinder than Bucky deserved, and he couldn't blame Rhodes for being pissed off after what had happened to Tony. 

Rhodes narrowed his eyes and tapped his foot on the floor. Finally, he said, "You don't even know, do you?"

"Know _what_?" Bucky said. "I feel like we're having two different conversations here!"

"If you don't know, I'm certainly not illuminating you. I don't like you. I don't think you're a good fit for Tony. But Tony seems to like you, and I see what's happening. Just know that I'm watching you, Barnes. If you fuck this up, I'll destroy you," Rhodes said coldly.

Bucky's mouth dropped open and he stood there in gobsmacked silence as Rhodes stalked away, the quiet whirring of his bracers the only sound in the air. Soon even that was gone, and Bucky knew that meant Rhdoes had gotten into the elevator and left the common floor. That was probably for the best, as Bucky didn't have the slightest clue what that conversation had been about and that was a surefire way for him to get himself in trouble. The last thing he needed was Tony upset because Bucky and Rhodes had gotten into a fight.

"FRIDAY," he said, "what the hell was that?"

"I believe Colonel Rhodes was giving you what is known as the shovel talk," FRIDAY explained.

"The shovel talk," Bucky muttered. It sounded like one of those modern references he hadn't picked up on yet.

"It's a conversation that friends have with their friend's potential partners," FRIDAY said helpfully. "It's viewed as problematic sometimes, but it's a staple of modern media."

"But Tony and I aren't partners. He's a Little!" Bucky was revolted by the very idea. He knew from research that Tony had pretended to have relationships in the past. Some of those relationships may even have involved sex, the very idea of which creeped Bucky out. It went against every instinct in him to even think about it. 

"Partners doesn't always have to have a romantic connotation. In this case, I believe Colonel Rhodes is afraid of what will happen if you start taking care of Boss when he's in his headspace."

Bucky choked on his own saliva, shocked that FRIDAY could say that so casually. Okay, so maybe the idea had crossed his mind a few times... or maybe more than a few times. The past month and a half had easily been the best of Bucky's life. His first week in Stark Tower might have been rough, but Tony had more than made up for it since then. He'd personally introduced Bucky to Charles Xavier, and had gotten permission for Bucky to fly upstate every three days to have a session with Xavier. He'd also spent hours showing Bucky how to use the B.A.R.F. machine.

Not only that, but Tony had been Bucky's singlest biggest advocate throughout this whole process. Bucky couldn't imagine where he would be without Tony right now. Pepper had let it slip that Tony was literally paying hundreds of thousands of dollars on the lawyers who were going to bat for Bucky right now, not to mention the excellent doctors Tony was also paying for. And on top of all that, they'd even spent some nights together just casually watching television or a movie, playing video games, and other things that Tony probably didn't really have time for, but did anyway because he could tell Bucky needed the company.

Tony Stark was the most amazing person in the world, and Bucky couldn't deny that he wished he had the chance to make sure Tony knew that. He'd observed the subtle ways in which Tony completely failed at taking care of himself while simultaneously trying to take care of literally everyone else. Tony didn't eat well, sleep well, or even remember to hydrate. He would sit for hours in what Bucky suspected was a pee-soaked diaper, until he was squirming in discomfort, all because Tony never wanted to pry himself away from whatever interesting thing he was doing.

So yeah, okay, maybe Bucky would like to step up as Tony's caregiver. The test he had taken when he was younger was massively out of date, of course, but even back then Bucky had been designated as a caregiver for the youngest of Littles. Which just happened to be the category that Tony fell into - something Bucky had learned from FRIDAY. Steve had always hated that about Bucky, constantly chafing under what he saw as Bucky being too smothering, but _Tony_ and Bucky would an excellent match. 

But that was never going to happen. Bucky gave his head a rough shake and said, "Rhodes has nothing to worry about. I killed Tony's parents. I'm lucky he hasn't thrown me out the window yet. He would never even _think_ about that."

All FRIDAY said was, "I've found the recipe for the best cream cheese frosting that you asked for."

"Thanks," Bucky muttered, moving back to the counter. He carefully removed the cake from the pan and stood there, looking at it. He'd baked the cake with the intention of surprising Tony with it later. Bucky wanted to celebrate. Xavier had confirmed that the words were gone from Bucky's subconscious. He could never be forced into being the Winter Soldier again.

He’d chosen carrot cake because he knew that Tony liked carrot cake from an off-hand comment Tony had made one night while they were watching a movie. It hadn’t been too difficult to make, but maybe it was too much? Maybe he was giving people the wrong idea? He thought about tossing the cake in the garbage, but that didn’t seem like the right move to make either.

Finally, he decided to let the cake cool. It only took about an hour, and he made up the cream cheese frosting recipe according to FRIDAY’s suggestions. Bucky was just putting the final touches on it when Tony walked into the kitchen. He stopped short when he saw the cake, eyebrows furrowing, then slowly lifted his sunglasses up to give Bucky a skeptical look. 

“Is this about what Rhodey said?” Tony asked.

“No,” Bucky said, surprised.

“You sure? Because FRIDAY showed me what happened, and you don’t need to give me a cake over it.”

“I was baking the cake before Rhodes came in,” Bucky pointed out.

Tony opened his mouth and then closed it. He blinked. Then he said, “Okay, true.”

“Why did FRIDAY show you what happened?” Bucky asked curiously. He found himself wondering just how much FRIDAY had shown Tony, if she’d included the brief conversation that was just between him and FRIDAY. He should’ve known better. Tony had told him that FRIDAY didn’t actively monitor bedrooms, and that anyone could induce a privacy mode just by saying as much. Bucky hadn’t ever bothered, mostly because he wasn’t doing anything that he didn’t want anyone to know about it. 

Until now.

“I have her flagged to show me any encounters between you and Rhodey. He’s… well, he’s still a little upset about everything,” Tony said, moving closer to examine the cake with a delighted expression. “He’s more mad at Rogers than you at this point, but I wouldn’t put it past him to try and punch you or something like that.”

“I’d deserve it,” Bucky said, unbothered by the idea. He was glad that Tony had people who were so fiercely protective of him. Steve had fucked a lot of shit up, but at the time it had been really nice to know that Steve was doing it for Bucky.

“No you wouldn’t,” Tony said softly, looking up at him. “Bucky, you have to stop trying to punish yourself for what happened. Believe me, it doesn’t do anyone any good.” His expression twisted, something dark momentarily overtaking his features, before his face smoothed out and he sighed. “Hasn’t your therapist told you that?”

“Well, yeah. That doesn’t mean she’s right. After what I did –”

“What you were _forced_ to do,” Tony corrected.

Bucky shrugged and picked up his cake. “At the end of the day, it all feels the same.”

Tony didn’t say anything to that for a moment. He just looked kind of sad, and it made Bucky’s chest hurt. But what he’d said was true, and his therapists had been strongly encouraging him to say what he really felt. The more time went by, the more it looked like Bucky wasn’t going to have to go to prison. He wasn’t sure how to deal with that yet. If no one else was going to punish him, shouldn’t he do it himself?

“If you get community service,” Tony said suddenly, “you could spend it being my caregiver.”

They came within an inch of losing the cake. Tony’s statement shocked him so much that he lost his grip on the glass platter. Tony squeaked in alarm, but Bucky was already reacting: he fell to his knees and grabbed the platter from underneath. The platter tilted dangerously, since Bucky only had the one hand to grab it with, but then Tony was there. He gripped the platter on either side and gently steadied it.

“Gotta be careful. It would be a shame to lose such a great-looking cake,” Tony said softly.

Bucky stared at him with wide eyes. “Are you – why would you – how could you - ?!”

“You’re not a bad person. You’re a good person who got shoved into some really bad circumstances,” Tony said abruptly, lifting the platter and setting it safely on the table. 

“But that doesn’t mean –” Bucky waved his hand helplessly.

“I know. It was just an idea. Honestly, you don’t have to worry. No matter what Rhodey said, the idea came from me. Not you.” Tony shrugged with his whole body, lifting his hands, and tried to smile. “I know that I would be a handful. That’s why it would be considered community service. Everyone could benefit from _someone_ having some control over me, right?”

Bucky stared at him. “Tony…”

“Forget it. This was dumb. Thanks for the cake; I’ll get a piece later.” Tony made a half-hearted attempt to scoot by Bucky, but Bucky reached out to stop him instinctively. They both froze when Bucky’s hand made impact with Tony’s shoulder.

“It ain’t dumb,” Bucky whispered. “If that’s somethin’ you really want, I’d be… god, Tony, I’d definitely be willin’ to talk about it. But no, I wouldn’t do it just because the court told me to. I’d want it cause… cause _you_ want it, and I want it, and it makes us both happy. Or happier, at least.”

“Sometimes I don’t know what would make me happy. So far, the bottom of a whiskey bottle hasn’t worked,” Tony said.

Feeling like there was less chance Tony would run now, Bucky slowly let him go and moved over to the drawer where the silverware was. He pulled out two forks. “How about at the bottom of a cake?”

“I’ve never looked there,” Tony admitted with a shy smile. He took the fork.

They sat across from each other with the cake between them. Tony took the first forkful, shoving it into his mouth and let out a blissful hum. Bucky smiled to himself and took a smaller forful for himself. It didn’t taste too bad. He thought that frosting was maybe a little too sweet, but it wasn’t a bad contrast to the nuttiness of the carrot cake. And Tony certainly seemed to be enjoying it, so that made it all worthwhile.

“I’m a young Little,” Tony said bluntly in between bites of cake. “Most of the time I wear absorbent underwear I designed myself, but diapers are really best. I like bottles and pacifiers. I like to be cared for.” He spoke the words like they were a challenge, as though daring Bucky to say something wrong. It implied that Tony had had this conversation before, probably more than once, with people who _had_ said the wrong thing. 

“I know,” Bucky said simply.

Tony froze. “You know? How?”

“Dunno. It’s just a feeling when I look at you. I wanna bundle you up and hide you away from the world,” Bucky said with a sigh. “It used to drive Steve crazy. I’ve always been like that.” He poked morosely at the cake.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” Tony said slowly. “I could use a few more people standing between me and the rest of the world.”

Bucky put his fork down and looked at Tony very seriously. “Tony, you’ve done so much for me and you haven’t asked for anything in return. I’m not the Winter Soldier anymore, but I would kill anyone who looks at you wrong.”

“That should probably worry me more than it does,” Tony said, smiling.

“Yeah, it probably should,” Bucky agreed, smiling back. Then his smile faded. “I haven’t care for anyone in… god, over seventy years. I’ve never actually had a Little of my own. I’m told I had sisters when I was younger, though I don’t really remember them. And there was Steve, though he’s no Little.” He dropped his gaze and fiddled with his fork. “I don’t even know if I could do it. I’m still… really fucked up. And I will be for a long time. I’m… I don’t think I’d be good for you.”

Tony was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “I’m an alcoholic. I drink way too much, though I’m trying to move past that. I’ve got depression and PTSD and anxiety. I have horrific nightmares and flashbacks.” Under the table, his foot touched Bucky’s. Bucky looked up, surprised, and right into Tony’s eyes. They stared at each other for a long, tense moment.

“So what you’re saying is, we’re both screwed up,” Bucky whispered.

“Completely. And you… you know, you’re not at all what I expected. I thought for sure you’d be so far up Rogers’s ass that you wouldn’t be able to speak past all the shit. I was really surprised when you turned out to be a decent human being,” Tony said, shaking his head. “More than that, you’re a genuinely nice person. You… you _care_. About me.”

“Tony, after what you’ve done for me –” Bucky began, but Tony was holding up a hand to forestall his speech.

“You don’t get it. I did _everything_ for Rogers and his team. I twisted myself inside out trying to make them happy and they still thought I was trash. They didn’t even think I was worth their consideration. I didn’t even do that much for you, Bucky. I did what any reasonable person would do if they had my money and connections, and you made me a goddamn cake.” Tony waved his hand at the cake. “A cake!”

Bucky’s heart ached listening to this, even as his anger towards Steve grew. He’d seen hints of the unpleasant history between Tony and the other Avengers while doing his research, and of course he’d been privvy to their attitude towards Tony Stark while they were on the run. But he hadn’t realized the full impact their behavior had had on Tony until now. Tony didn’t even think of himself as a good person. He didn’t understand that he’d gone above and beyond what anyone else would do for Bucky. He didn’t get that he deserved the entire fucking world.

And he wouldn’t, Bucky thought, until someone stepped up and devoted themselves to making sure that Tony got it. If no one else was willing to do that, then Bucky would.

He squared his shoulders. “I’ll do it.”

“Excuse me?” Tony said, looking surprised.

“I’ll be your caregiver if you want me,” Bucky said, hoping his nerves didn’t show up on his face.

Tony’s mouth hung open slightly before he sputtered, “Wh-what?”

“You heard me,” Bucky said. “I want it. I didn’t want to admit it, because I thought I shouldn’t, but I do.”

“I – uh – huh,” Tony said. He cleared his throat. “O-Okay. So we’re in agreement.”

“Sure,” Bucky said, pulse quickening. 

“Okay,” Tony said a little breathlessly, with another, tentative smile.

Bucky smiled hesitantly back. Rhodes was probably going to kill him, but it would be worth it. He pushed back his chair and stood, moving around the table. Tony rose to meet him but otherwise didn’t move, and Bucky realized he’d have to make the first move here. He could only guess at how many times Tony had made the first move and been rejected.

Slowly, carefully, he stepped closer and wrapped his arm around Tony’s shoulders. Tony stood stiff for a few seconds before melting into the hug, both of his arms coming up to clutch at Bucky’s shirt. Bucky hugged him as tightly as he dared, pressing his cheek to the top of Tony’s head. His hair was very soft. Baby soft. Bucky closed his eyes, feeling peaceful for the first time that he could ever remember.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
